


Warmed Through

by QuailiTea



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 11:52:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12432270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuailiTea/pseuds/QuailiTea
Summary: Whopooh had a nifty idea for a bit of backstory for Miss Charlesworth - I decided to expand on it a bit, but this is plotless and very fluffy





	Warmed Through

It had been an awful day. Regina Charlesworth stamped her way up the staircase to her flat, smearing damp along the wallpaper and mud along the runner, despite her best efforts on the doormat. A door on the landing swung open and when she leapt back, she dropped her bag, causing it to tumble open and spill the contents back down the stairs again. Tediously, she collected her belongings and made another try for her front door. When she finally got her benumbed fingers to work the key, the door was already being opened from the inside.

“Oh Siggy, thank you,” she sighed, handing her lover the soggy hat that had given up under the weight of a rogue snowball that she’d encountered just past the park.

“George, what did you do to this thing?” Sigrid pushed her fading blonde hair back from her face with a sigh. She carried the hat to the kitchen and gave it a few unceremonious bashes over the sink to knock the worst of the snow loose. “There. I’m going to need to let it dry before I even try to fix it though.” Regina struggled out of her coat, scarf and boots, scattering slush everywhere with a wry look on her face.

“I am sorry,” Regina said, “I know you spent your off day putting everything in order and here I am bringing in the mire. There were three different printer’s errors on one of our advertiser’s spreads, Mrs. Lin was being terribly harassed by one of the tradesmen, and I was so upset with the whole women drivers column debacle that I walked straight through a snowball fight, right before...”

“George,” Sigrid said gently, “sit. Drink your tea. I’ll clear this up.” She sat, nestling down into her armchair with a flop, and Sigrid handed her a mug hot enough that it made her nose begin to run.

“I’m sorry Siggy, my love.” Regina blew gently on her cup and shook out her fingers. “How was your day?”

“Productive,” the woman said with a smile that never failed to give Regina a warm feeling flooding through her chest. “I finished the tidying along with an enormous stack of grading. I'll have to show you the midterm I just got in. I think I’ve found your next fashion writer, if you want to snap her up and get her making her own income before she finds a sweetheart. Oh, and your lovely Miss Fisher stopped by.”

“Did she now,” Regina leaned forward and patted Siggy’s chair. After puttering a few more moments, the blonde woman bumped down into her chair and dragged a blanket across both of their legs. “What did she have to say?”

“She very polite to her teacher’s dear friend, as she was following up on a case of hers, something about a blackmailer who might have used one of the school’s typewriters. I sent her down to the repair office.”

“Well, Pirate Frannie would know a thing or two about that,” Regina chuckled. “She ruined a good three of the school’s once, trying to make herself a pirate map with the ribbon ink, did I ever tell you that story?”

“She warned me you might, insisted that it was not worth hearing, and told me not to believe a single word of it anyways.”

“She would.” The two women sat in companionable silence for a few moments, absorbing their tea reverentially. “In any case, since she still doesn’t quite seem to believe you’re anything more than my roommate, I feel no compunction in telling you, insisting that it is worth hearing, and assuring you I’m telling it true.” Sigrid’s face flickered into a wicked smile, her brown eyes lit with mischief, and she settled her legs more comfortably across Regina’s, rearranging the blanket to keep the heat in.

“Uff, your feet are freezing, dear. No matter how enlightened she might be, I don’t think she’ll be ever quite able to make that connection about her former teacher. Most of my students think I live in the school and sleep in a coffin in the school basement, bless them. Spill.”

“It started when we read Treasure Island in my class,” Miss Charlesworth began. “It ended with Pirate Frannie up the beech in my landlord’s backyard, being menaced by three boys that she had swindled out of their pocket money while she threw beechnuts at them with a slingshot made from a clothes hanger and the elastic from somebody’s smalls off the line.”

“Up the beech in your backyard? How do you figure in this?”

“I was in my dressing gown and rollers, as it was past midnight, trying to coax her into my window!” Sigrid began to chuckle, and didn’t stop for the rest of the story except to put the kettle on again and plant a kiss on Regina on the way past. It hadn’t been so bad a day after all.


End file.
